Wild Magic
by ironfire13
Summary: when the pied piper's music fades, an enchanting adventure begins. based of the book Wild Magic


**Based off the book Wild Magic by Cat Weatherill**

**Main characters:**

**Marianna will be replaced by: Seychelles\** **Michelle**

**Jakob will be replaced by: Sealand\Peter**

**Moller (dad) will be replaced by: England\ Arthur**

**Finn (piper) will be replaced by: France\ Francis **

**Minor characters will be whoever I think fits them Haha.**

Michelle felt fantastic. She had lost her lace cap and her dress was sticking to her back, but she didn't care. She was happy. Her head was spinning with colors and the music-oh!She had never heard anything like it before. It was very simple-the same few notes played over and over again on a silver pipe—but it made her think of the flowers and sunshine, and long, lazy swims in a cool, blue ocean.

It made her dance. It made her lift her skirts and kick her heels. Clap her hands. Smile at strangers. Spin and twirl like a leaf in the wind—and it was all because of the piper

The adults called him "the ratchatcher," but not Michelle. He was far too exotic for that. She had seen endless ratchatchers—dirty little me, with faces as mean and pinched as their prey. They stalked through the streets with big snappy dogs or paraded through the market square, dangling dead rats from their belts.

The piper hadn't done that. Yes, he had rid Hamelin town of rats, but not with traps and bait. He dared to be different. Into a sad, drab world of gray and black he had come, bunting bright in turquoise and jade. Dazzling as a dragonfly. He had played a pipe and the rats had followed, dancing till they drowned in the quick brown water of the river. They had to follow him. They couldn't resist his music. And Michelle couldn't resist it now. It was glorious. She wanted to dance. She wanted to dream. She wanted to follow the piper.

And Michelle wasn't alone. The streets were packed with children. Every boy, every girl in Hamelin town seemed to be there, and they were all dancing.

Except one.

A boy. Watching from the side of the road. Nine years old, a bit shabby, leaning heavily on a wooden crutch. Bent body. Thin, wasted legs. A boy not made for dancing. But his eyes were leaping, bright as buttons, not missing a thing.

"Peter!" cried Michelle, skipping over to him. "You're not dancing!"

"I am," he said. "In here." He put his free hand over his heart. "Oh Michelle, have you ever heard anything like this before?"

Michelle shook her head. "No I haven't. It's fabulous. I feel like dancing on the rooftops! I feel my eyes have been washed in raindrops! Everything is so bright and beautiful today. The sky is beautiful. The sun is beautiful. You are beautiful!" she kissed her brother on the foreheads and he squirmed with pleasure.

"Can you see things, Michelle?" said Peter. "Because I can. When I close my eyes, I see a wonderful land all my own. There are open fields and shimmering rivers. Orchards full of cherry trees, pink with blossoms. The sky is full of swallows and the streams are full of salmon."

"I see an ocean," said Michelle dreamily. "It's full of fish, with long golden tails. And on the beach, there are flowers I haven't seen before and fabulous butterflies. It's amazingly beautiful. I can't believe the piper is taking us there! We're so lucky."

Peter nodded. "he's taking us to paradise, Michelle. And do you know the best thing about it?"

Michelle shook her head.

"In paradise, I'll be healed. I'll have a new body! Long legs like a baby deer and a straight back. I'll be taller, Michelle! Much taller! And I won't need this." He shook his crutch. "I'll be able to run like a wolf. Faster than anyone here."

Michelle ruffled his hair. "That would be a miracle."

"it's going to happen," said Peter "as soon as we get there."

Michelle didn't have time to reply. A passing beggar had seized her hand. He pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her waist. Michelle gasped. He laughed. She laughed. They danced up the street while the adults looked on.

Great crowds of angry people were lining the streets, shouting at the piper as he led the children through the town. Butcher and baker, tanner and tailor, fisherman, cobbler, miller, and thief—everyman in Hamelin seemed to be there, straight from work. None of them had bothered washing. Michelle has never seen such an assortment of mucky faces. The women were no tidier. And what a way to behave! They were pulling their children out of the passing parade. Shaking them. Slapping them. Screaming into bewildered faces.

_Why?_ Thought Michelle._ They're doing nothing wrong. They're not stealing-they're dancing! Why can't their parents be happy for them? Why don't they dance too?_

The beggar boy swung Michelle round and round. She was starting to feel tired. Her legs would ache tomorrow! But she didn't want to stop. She wanted to follow the piper—through the streets, out of town and on to paradise. Who didn't want to follow the piper? Sunlight was leaping through the air to touch him. He was golden, glorious, irresistible.

Michelle had one more twirl with the beggar boy, then pulled away.

"I have a cramp," she said. "I just need a minute."

"I don't!" laughed the boy. He bowed and danced on.

Michelle stepped out of the stream of dancers and leaned back against a wall, waiting until the pain went away. Oh, here was trouble! The mayor, red faced and round, was forcing his way into the throng of children. And there was his son, Romano, dancing with the best of them. The mayor had a leather strap. He was waving it like a whip. Romano's backside will be black and blue if his father caught him. The mayor had a horrible temper.

But Romano was off, bounding down the street like a March hare. His father would never catch him. The mayor wasn't built for running. His legs were too short and his belly to big.

Michelle gazed at the hot, excited faces coming toward her. She recognized one of the dancers. It was Antonio, the butcher's boy. Oh, she thought wearily. _I hope he doesn't want to dance with me too!_

Then Michelle saw someone behind Antonio. A woman: wild-eyed, breathless snorting like a donkey. She grabbed Antonio around the middle.

Antonio wiggled free and turned around. "Mother! Dance with me!"

He took hold of the women and started to spin her. Michelle laughed. Antonio's mother was a tiny thing and he was throwing her around like a pile of washing.

"No!" she gasped. She seized Antonio by the elbows and forced him to stand still. "Antonio! What are you doing?"

"Dancing," he replied, as if he were answering the silliest question he had ever been asked.

"Listen to me!" cried his mother. "This is a spell. An enchantment. You're not thinking right. You must stop this!"

Antonio kissed her on the cheek. She shook him like a rag doll.

"Forget the piper," she pleaded. "Remember the rat's, Antonio. He took them to the river remember? He drowned them, Antonio. Drowned them in the river. Antonio he's taking you to the river! You mustn't go with him! Don't listen to his music, Antonio. He's evil."

Antonio said nothing; he simply started laughing. In despair, the woman turned away and appealed to Michelle

"Please!" she said. "Michelle, tell him! You're a clever girl. He'll listen to you. Tell him the piper's evil."

"No," said Michelle, "I won't. Because it's not true. The piper's not evil. He's the best thing that ever happened in this town. I have never, ever felt this good. Never, in the whole of my life. You're old. You don't understand. We want to dance. We will dance! You can't stop us."

With that, Michelle took Antonio by hand and together they disappeared into the crowd of dancing children.

"No-o-o-o-o!" wailed the woman, but it was too late.

They had gone.

**End of chapter 1!**


End file.
